Beyond the Veil of Death
by Draconaros
Summary: It has been fifteen years since the infamous Kira was killed. Nearly the same amount of time has passed since any shinigami had last visited earth. But now, one of the Death Gods is tasked with a special mission. Venturing to Earth for the first time, or possibly returning to Earth, only time will tell what is really on the God's agenda. Inspired by DN:Relight -Visions of a God
1. Rise of a God

_**Disclaimer:**_ _I do not own any characters from the series. The characters here obviously belong to their original owner. We all know the drill when it comes to disclaimers, right? _

* * *

The scrawling scarlet script cascaded over the previously pristine pages as the shinigami ended the doomed man's life with a flourish. A sigh escaped the Death God as the time ticked away within its mind. The last beats of the damned could only be imagined within the shinigami's mind as it stood watching from another world.

Down on earth, the man's eyes widened. Before the minute drew full course, his heart gave out and seized within his chest. A single croak broke through his lips as his fingers clenched at his chest, and as the man's legs went limp under him his eyes glazed over as his last breath escaped, carrying his soul.

A communal gasp echoed around the room as blood oozed from a gash across the dead man's forehead, the table in front of the corpse also lying upon its side with a smear of blood slowly dripping off the nearest corner. Several witnesses rose up as their jaws dropped in unison. A flurry of voices rose and ebbed within the chamber before the sound of a harsh pummel brought them to silence.

"Twenty years," the shinigami spoke to itself. An inhale of new life surged through the God as the rest of the man's natural lifespan was added to the measly amount allocated beforehand. "That should be sufficient enough for what I need to accomplish." The shinigami's jaw clattered as he spoke.

"Now," the shinigami spoke to itself again, for there wasn't any other being within the barren wasteland for several miles, "to find that shinigami with his tale of Earth. But first, a gift."

The Death Note the shinigami was using closed with a snap, a crimson design circled across the cover amidst an abyss of black leather. Several characters flowed like blood across it, clearly defining the original owner of the note.

Through the tears within the back of the shinigami's clothes sprouted a pair of feathered wings. They shimmered black as night as the shinigami rose into the grey sky, feathers fluttering downwards as the shinigami rose upwards. Patches of the Death God's wings were stripped clean of the onyx feathers, giving way to a system of glistening ivory. The crisp bone caused a stark contrast with the patches of ruffled ebony feathers.

From below, the being flew like that of a dying raven, slowly propelling forward through the bleak, dull sky. The landscape too complemented the atmosphere of the sky, as the shinigami passed overhead. Piles of skulls soon littered the ground as the shifting seas of sand slowly seeped into the plains. Mounds of earth crested and rolled as an assortment of ancient skeletons lay emerging from the rock.

But the shinigami spent no time gawking over the ancient beings or wondering what they once were; instead, the glistening garnet eyes scanned the horizon for one sole purpose. Adjusting its gaze to combat the rising fog, the shinigami swooped through the sky, slowly spiraling downwards as it located its objective.

Barren branches broke through the thickening fog as the shinigami made landfall. Aside from the deathly figure, a lone tree stood askew upon the hill. The blackened tree appeared burnt and lifeless; wilted fruit clinging to the otherwise bare branches. Wisps of fog curled around the smooth, barkless trunk of the ancient tree.

The earth crunched underneath the shinigami's boots as he took several slow steps forward. One foot struck a sole skull as he made his way towards the tree, sending it rolling and tumbling down the slope. The sound of it shattering against a mound of bone broke the surrounding silence.

Raising an arm, the shinigami plucked one of the withered fruits with ease from the lifeless limb. The shinigami rolled the disgusting fruit within its skeletal grasp, the blackened flesh withholding an oil-like ooze. Satisfied with the discovery, the shinigami pocketed the fruit and shuffled several steps back before ascending upwards once more.

The molting wings pumped and propelled the shinigami through the fog. As the shinigami glided above the wasteland, thoughts roamed freely throughout its mind. 'It'd be pointless just to search for the one I seek… Surely the others would know where he rests.'

'Yes,' the thought echoed through what passed as the shinigami's skull, 'they shouldn't be that far.'

With a tilt, the shinigami dived downwards. As the earth grew closer, the fog began to thin. The glowing garnet eyes gazed back and forth across the landscape in search of signs of life – or in this case, of Death. The landscape below lacked much variety. Wherever one looked, spires of bone and rock jutted from the earth as mounds of debris and skeletons littered the ground. If one didn't monitor their movements, it would be very easy to become lost.

That was not the case now, however; it would be hard to miss the sound of shinigami vice within the lifeless world. The wind carried the sounds of their raspy voices with it as it flowed across the wasteland. It never took long to locate the gambling kin-mates.

The rattling of bones accompanied the shinigami's arrival as both feet touched onto the dirt and both wings withdrew. The bones danced through the dust as they tumbled out from one of the other shinigamis' hands.

Two of the shinigami watched intently as the bones tumbled along to a stop. A third sat nearby, the only one of the three to notice the addition to their group.

"Ah, it's about time you showed your ugly mug around here." The shinigami bobbed his head as he talked, causing his feathered headdress to sway in turn.

A cuss erupted from one of the others, as the bones were scooped up again; their previous layout proved unsatisfactory to one of the gamblers. The pair both turned to face the newest shinigami. Each seemed to have a bone-like head, one more animalistic than the other. The former of the pair wore tattered cloth, while the one with the cattle skull was covered with tussled fur.

Pleasantries were foregone as the fourth shinigami dove straight to the point: "Tell me where the Punished rests."

A snort escaped from one as they turned back to the bones stuck into the dirt once more.

"You actually want to go meet him?" the shinigami in the headdress sounded surprised as he questioned his demand.

The final shinigami made an inaudible sound as he gazed down upon the formation of the bones, the markings etched into the worn surface again playing in his opponent's favour. "Bah, why waste your time with him."

A heavy thump resounded around them as a large bone mace indented the earth. "Shut up," spoke the traveler, the sockets of his hollowed eyes streaked with scarlet. "I just want to talk to him. I heard he had some fun in the human world."

"The human world?" Zellogi, the shinigami in the native style headdress spoke out with a sense of vigor. "That was nearly two decades ago. Don't tell me you seek to go there as well?"

The bone club elevated itself to be on par with Zellogi's face. "My business with the human world is between The Punished, The King, and myself. Now…" The shinigami spun and dropped the mace back into the dirt, sparing Gukku from yet another unfavourable roll.

The gamblers let out a simultaneous yelp as the pair scuttled back from the bone shattering club. "He's outside the gates to the human world," Zellogi spoke out with a sigh. "He stays within the highest room before the descent into either of our realms. Just go and get on with your foolhearted plans."

"That's all I sought." The shinigami extended out its arms and bowed mockingly before it slung the bone mace onto its back before taking to the skies for the third time that day.

* * *

The sound of echoing footsteps drew the shinigami known to the others as The Punished back to their realm. The shinigami leaned back against a wall carved from the bleak bone, pulling his gaze away with effort from the human world. The foot falls faded to a stop and the scent of fresh death washed over the damned.

"Who are you?" he asked, the deep voice cracking as it spoke for the first time in years. The shinigami turned slowly to face the stranger with glazed eyes. There was a pause as he waited for an answer.

"I've been looking for you," the clattering voice stated, ignoring the question. "I want to hear your story."

"Oh?" The shinigami cocked his head, a mix of emotion upon his twisted grin. A silence descended upon the pair as feelings of familiarity rose within The Punished, be it a resemblance to a previous state of being or otherwise.

The silence lasted for but a few seconds as the stranger continued, "I'll make it worth your while." The voice clattered before the being pulled an object out from a pocket. An arm wound back before the object was heaved through the air, accompanied by an audible grunt.

The shine of light shimmered upon the surface of the withered apple as it cascaded across the chamber. The Punished in turn rose his own hand; he caught the apple as it struck square into his palm. His fading eyesight providing little hindrance to where he knew the fruit would land.

"Very well," he spoke before taking a deep whiff of the long rotten fruit, its typical scent of decay and rot mixed with the faint taint of citrus.

"I was getting bored anyways." He squeezed the apple lightly in his grasp; the spoiled meat of the fruit sloshing within the thick waxy hide. "I'll humour you."

Sharpened teeth bit into the apple causing the acidic juices to squirt and dribble down the shinigami's grey flesh. He paused to savour the treat. "I'll tell you," a second bite consumed all but the core, "the story of a human I once knew." The shinigami smacked his oversized lips as the core too vanished. "One who tried to change the world and become a God."

The shinigami stood up slowly, as he prepared his tale mentally. He stood swaying slightly as the breeze ruffled through the tuffs of jet black feathers fringing across his shoulders and through his equally erratic hair.

With an inhale of breath, the shinigami, Ryuk, began his tale.

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**A.N. :** Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed this opener. Don't fret. I shall continue this story. Possibly assign a date for a weekly update. Im thinking Monday or Tuesday. Probably the latter.

Oh, and Guys and Gals... Just want to let you know that reviews are quite appreciated. This is pretty much my first fan fic and yeah, I'd care to know what went well, what didn't, what you want to see more of... Or maybe I should ask this when more of it is up. XD  
Oh well. Have a Good Week All.

Thanks :3


	2. Dawn of a New Age

The sound of my echoing foot falls faded from my mind as both Ryuk's tale and my own thoughts battled for supremacy. The further I descended towards the human world the fainter his words became, and the easier it was for the flow of thoughts to surge.

'_He couldn't have expected me to stay for the full duration of that tale; I too have business within the human world though, unlike The Punished, I know what caused the last journey to fail.'_

By now Ryuk's tale had faded from the air – be it from the distance now between us or a realization of my absence. Either way, I didn't care. I didn't need to hear the end of his story, for I already knew how it ended. We all did.

The last few steps had faded into the vortex as I stood gazing down into the human world. The cities beamed with life far below, skyscrapers towering over the miniscule men and dwarfing their appearances. Their lifespans proved to be little more than a smear of blood on the surface. The time had come for the presence of the shinigami to return to the world of the living.

My feet broke through the portal as I too dropped into the realm of man.

The sky was adorned with a reddish glow as the newly dawned sun rose slowly above the horizon. The sky provided little cloud cover as I, the world's new Death God, descended towards the populace. They need not fear though, for only those I deem worthy shall see me and those I condemn shall have no time to dwell on fear.

Willing my wings to sprout forth, my descent abruptly came to a halt. The bag hanging by my hip swayed lazily in the cool morning breeze, the rustling of paper audible within its confines. The thought did cross my mind to take the notes out here and now, but the condemned could wait: I had come with a mission. Of course, that too would have to wait – there was business I sought to see through, if I could.

Clearing my mind, I began to picture that all too familiar face. Entire days had been spent watching this one particular man from the bleak world of the shinigami. His childish grin and piercing stare seemed to mock me, just as it had when I first gazed upon the mortal. Hours had gone by as bloodied letters repeated themselves over and over within the notebook as I tried time and time again to kill the man, but to no avail.

"Why won't you die?!" The scream had echoed across the shinigami plane, and it was at that time that I had to admit my defeat. His life shall forever taunt my existence. But now, I willed my mind to envision him. The face I knew all too well and that Americanized name of his. I needed to find him. Now. And then, I would find a way to kill him.

"Ah yes," I sighed, though I hated the sound my jaw made whenever I spoke. The picture was coming to me though, so I pushed the needless thought aside. A pair of glossy black feathers drifted downwards as I beat my wings to keep airborne.

_The polluted waters flowed haphazardly through the choked river. Chunks of garbage and ice drifted slowly as the dark water lapped around the waif. Thick soot billowed from smoke stacks lining the shoreline. But there he stood, standing still upon the docks staring across the riverbanks. That arrogant bastard._

_The mix of snow and ash drifting down from above appeared darker than the man's hair. His gaze affixed upon the flowing river, standing adorned in a suit greyed with age. The cane he leaned upon appeared far more elegant than a simple walking stick. But then the view finally revealed the location that was required of me._

"England?" I shook my head. I wouldn't have time to cross the globe right now. I was required here, in the States. A sigh escaped me as I let myself fall towards the bustling city below. I would need to lure him here, or wait for an opportunity. Either way, I was playing with time and I might as well just focus at the task at hand.

My boots struck concrete as I landed upon a skyscraper, the sights and sounds of the city washing over me. It sprawled out below in every direction, the concrete jungle itself seeming to burst with life. Even in the chilly morning, the signs of life were overwhelming.

The extravagance of it all flooded my senses and I began to doubt my task.

'_How will I even find someone whom hasn't been seen from the shinigami realm? And if I can even find them, how will I know it really is them?'_

* * *

Sunlight penetrated through the gaps in the boarded up windows and into the forlorn gloom. The sound of a train boomed nearby as the morning commute carried on its way. The rumbling sent vibrations that jarred the worn-down house. Yet despite the noise and thrashing, the cause of the mortal's sleeplessness was something much different.

The young man tossed and turned within the stained sheets. Despite the fact that he turned twenty upon this day, he was anything but happy. Nightmares plagued the man's dreams and threatened his every waking moment. The darkened room and the pitch black nights reminded him of that bleak and barren void. The dying screams of agony echoed through his mind. And their faces; they forever scarred his thoughts. As the life faded from their eyes and their hearts ceased to beat.

Emitting a groan as his consciousness rose to the land of the living, the man rolled to the edge of the bed. With effort he sat up and got to his feet, each day a battle between facing the world or curling back up and shutting everyone out. The floorboards creaked under his bare feet as he chose the former for today.

Fumbling for a bottle upon the crooked nightstand, the man cracked open the container's lid and shook out a small white pill. Parting the curtain of raven hair over his face, its tips dyed and streaked, he popped the pill past the pair of snake fang piercings on his bottom lip and swallowed it with ease. A sigh escaped as he slowly massaged his temples.

Slow steady steps carried him across the room as he grabbed a change of clothes. He stepped into a pair of torn jeans, the denim running over the pair of boxers he wore to sleep. A mix of muscle and bone defined his flesh as the studded belt was tightened around his small waist. A vibrant scar cut across the pale flesh of his back as he slowly shimmied into a deep purple tee. He took a moment to stretch before throwing a dull grey hoody over his shoulders, not even bothering to zip up the front.

An audible roar carried through the room as his stomach grumbled in dismay; the scent of something cooking had been arousing his senses for the past while. Figuring it best to give in to his hunger, he approached his bedroom door. With a harsh tug, he tried to pry the door open; the slight warp of the frame always caused it to jam. It took a couple of tries to get the door open, which is why he typically insisted upon sleeping with it open.

Pressing a hand against the peeling olive green wall, the man gradually made his way down the wooden stairs, untrusting of the handrail that tilted away from the steps. A variety of wonderful aromas wafted around him as his nose took a deep whiff of the sweet scents. Following the sound of sizzling meat and burning grease, he made his way into the kitchen.

Cold grimy tiles pressed against the bare soles of his feet as he stepped inside the open kitchen. The smells were a welcoming change to the dire home. Within the room was a small wooden table propped up in the corner, stained chairs resting on either side of it. A single window above the dripping sink faced out onto the street, the pane tinted dark through the ages. And upon the gas powered stove sat a well-worn pan. Attending it was a frail woman, her hair tied up in a bun streaked with age.

"Happy Birthday, my boy!" she greeted, walking over to him and enveloped him in a hug, her face pressed into his chest as he towered over her. Releasing him from the hug, she beckoned him closer. Obliging, he leaned down and a moist kiss was placed upon his cheek.

"Now, how's my son doing on his marvelous day?" A smile parted her face as she made her way back to the stove. "Not up too late I hope?"

With a shake of his head, he walked up behind her. "It wasn't that late. Besides, I should be able to have some sort of fun every now and then." Even though he figured she knew he wasn't sleeping well, he never did tell her about the nightmares. It was one of the things he had long since grown accustomed too. Just as he had grown used to the fact he was the only one who could see the scarlet script floating in the air.

"Oh? But you aren't allowed to have fun anymore, least of all today," she teased, swatting him playfully before moving the contents of the pan onto a chipped plate.

She carried the plate over to the small table before setting it down. A single egg lay scrambled between two strips of crisp bacon. "Eat," she beckoned.

The man sat down at the table and obeyed; his stomach would have complained if he had objected. Not that he would have, of course – he was always fond of his mother's cooking, even if there wasn't a lot of it.

"Now, I'll be back soon," the older woman said, taking a step away into the narrow hallway.

"Mum," her son turned back in his chair, the words catching in his throat. With a clatter, he put down his cutlery and got up. "Please don't – we don't need any cake."

"Nonsense," his mother waved the thought away with a whisk of her hand. "A birthday without cake? I swear, you are getting odder with every day."

A pause passed as the boy's mother walked down the hall, her son trailing after her.

"Please don't go mom." He grabbed the woman's wrist and spun her back. "We can just sit about and play cards or something. Don't make more work out of it – I don't want any cake today."

She slid her hand out from his grasp and gave him a little smile. "No cake? This coming from the boy who demanded cake for every meal when he was ten?" She turned back towards the door and started to turn the handle. "Don't worry Remus, I'll be home before you know it."

And like that she was gone, walking down the street in the chilly morning breeze on a quest for cake. But as she left and rounded the block, her son couldn't help but worry. But what was he supposed to say? '_No mom, please don't go. I don't know what will happen when the scarlet numbers reach zero.' _She wouldn't have understood. But as the wind picked up, Remus couldn't help but think of how he could have gotten her to stay.

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**A.N.: **Alright all. I have figured that I shall be updating this story every **Tuesday**. Again, Reviews are appreciated.

Glad you enjoyed.


	3. Birthday Blues

It had only been an hour since I had bonded with the Earth, but I was already beginning to feel hopeless for the cause.

The streets had been easy enough to navigate. The populace flowed without noticing my presence; I had to admit, I enjoyed it quite a lot. Following the flow of people led me to a central hub, a square that people flowed through like a surging tide. It was the perfect place to watch and wait.

This "Times Square" (as I learned to call it) saw the largest flow of people throughout the city. Additionally, news reports played across gigantic screens. It was the perfect place to watch the city. From here, I'd know what was happening practically anywhere in this city and watch as the majority of the populace passed below. It was perfect for my needs. After all, this city fit the most to what I knew of my hunt. It would only be a matter of time now until I found her.

I watched from the ledge of a building several stories up as the mortal scum meandered about. It was sickening to see that they had regressed so far backwards. The crime rate had soared since the death of Kira, more than fifteen years ago. What would they do if they learned that they were in the presence of such a God once more?

In my hands, a notebook was already flipped open. How easy it would be to cleanse this place; a bead of ink was already seeping onto the parchment. No, I couldn't. The King would have my head if I strayed from the mission.

I struggled to close the book, fighting against my inner demons. The allure of death was always beckoning. It would only be so long until I finally caved into the desires of this world. It was with difficulty that I slid the book back where it belonged, wedged between the fabric of my messenger bag and the second notebook I carried.

It was then that the screen across the way blipped to life. The anchor for the channel 4 news came into focus, a banner reading 'Breaking News' scrolling over his head. It seemed that today would be a long day; I hoped my will would hold through it. I could already feel my curiosity rise. I just had to know if these humans still cared about the treachery that rose amidst their kin. A step carried my body over the edge as I fell towards the commoners. Gunfire erupted across the screen as the view turned live, the police force fighting against masked men within a run-down district of the immense city.

Based off of the civilians' reactions, or lack thereof, this kind of media was quite common. Yet despite the carnage, I could have sworn that a single scream had risen from the crowd.

* * *

"I don't know – I guess I just worry too much." Remus was sprawled on his back on a worn couch, the fabric lightly bleached from the sunlight. The window across the room was cracked open, letting a cool breeze circulate through the room.

"Yes, you do." The feminine voice emitted from the device pressed against the young man's ear. The old phone was several years old, but it still worked and that was good enough for both of them.

"I'm sure she will be fine. Besides, it's your special day. You should be enjoying it." There was a slight pause before the voice grew softer and asked, "Speaking of which – when can I come see you?"

An absentminded shrug broke across his shoulders. "Well, my mum should have been home now with cake. Maybe when she returns?"

"Okay. That–" the voice cut off as Remus pushed himself off the couch, accidentally dropping the phone in the process.

Fumbling to place the phone to his ear once more, only the tail end of the conversation was heard. "Can... Can you repeat that?" The words came stumbling out of the man.

"I said," the voice returned, giving Remus a soundless sigh of relief, "that that sounds good. Just let me know."

A smile had crept upon his pierced lips. "Will do."

"Well, I should get going now. And you should do something to get your mind off this – she's fine."

"If you say so."

"Aw, come on Remus. You know it's true. Would I ever lie to you?"

"I guess you're right." A sigh followed his statement. "I just… The numbers are counting down–" he was cut off before he could continue.

"Still seeing those? Remus," the voice was underlined with a serious tone, "you have been taking your medication, riiiight?"

He paced towards the kitchen, answering as he went, "Of course I have. But they aren't doing anything."

The voice sounded doubtful as it responded, "Uh-Huh. You know it's all in your head, right Rem? The numbers you see are meaningless."

"Oh yeah? And how do you know that?"

"The doctors said –"

"The doctors don't know squat. If it was as they said, Liam would still be here."

The phone resounded with a small huff. "Remus, Liam wouldn't have lived long either way. You know that right?"

Remus shook his head as he opened the fridge door. "He should have lived. His numbers were good. But then, in that courtroom… It's like something _wanted_ him to die."

"Oh don't you start this again."

"No, I'm serious. I watched his numbers accelerate. And they claimed it was a heart attack, right at the moment they all hit zero. Tell me that doesn't sound weird to you."

There was a lengthy pause before Remus decided to continue, "Come on, it must be like when we were little. It fits."

"_Tsk_, Remus," the voice paused for a moment, "that was a long time ago. Besides, Kira is dead."

"Then a second?" The door to the fridge closed behind Remus as he cracked open a can of pop.

"Stop – just stop it, Remus. I'm sick and tired of your government conspiracies and bullshit. These numbers of yours, they mean nothing! You're sick dear, and you need to get help." A long sigh interrupted and the sound of a repressed sniffle could be heard as the voice on the other end of the line tried not to cry. "Just do what the doctors say, and get help Remus. I'll see you tomorrow," the voice ended with a click, leaving Remus standing open-mouthed in the middle of the kitchen with his phone in one hand, and a fizzing soda in the other.

He stood there in silence as the froth spewed forth from the can and dripped down his hand. He didn't know what to say, or what to do. Slowly he placed the phone down onto the counter. He was seeking the doctors' help – it just wasn't working. Was he just supposed to go along with it all and pretend to be fine? Was that how the world spun?

No. He wasn't going to lie to himself and shake it off as nothing. Determined that there was something more at work within him, he walked over to the sink after placing the can down on the counter – its contents calmed and settled. With a turn of the faucet, the water began to churn out. Washing off the sticky soda, Remus' mind wandered onto the topic at hand.

He was confident that Liam was a victim of a modern day Kira. What else would make sense? Remus himself barely recalled anything of that day and age, and the government had masked up the majority of the information regarding the case. Through leaks and caches of worshippers' sites, Remus had a basic understanding of this 'Kira'.

He knew that Kira was only a man – that much the government had released. Remus himself could remember the announcement scrolling across the Time Square screens. He had been five at the time and although it had been a big deal for society, he knew nothing of what was happening. It was only now that he looked back at it and wondered if the world was better than it was now.

Turning the tap off, Remus began to rub his throbbing forehead, beads of water dripping down the sides of his face. He didn't want to think of it anymore. Maybe it was best to just forget about it all. For his own sanity's sake, it might be for the best. The more he thought of it, the more his concern grew for his mother. Besides, the numbers didn't seem to clock down in the standard convention of time – there might be more time for her than he thought.

Remus shook his head. With a sigh, he made his way into the living room, dragging his feet across the cool floor. Sitting slouched upon the couch, he flipped on the television. An old monster movie played across the dusty screen, static interrupting the black and white film. This was just what the man needed; a good old-fashioned film would get his mind off things.

Laying back into the folds of the cushions, Remus threw his feet up onto the stained oak coffee table as he settled in to watch the movie. It wasn't what many people would choose to watch, but there was something about the flickering black and white movie that spoke to him. He found an enjoyment in the original blockbusters instead of their modern recreations. There was just something about the macabre of the genre that fascinated the man.

It wasn't long before he was immersed within the budding flick, the monstrosities surging on the screen – beasts depicted wreaking havoc among the older Manhattan island.

A piercing ring sang out, causing Remus to jump where he lay, the white script of the credits casually cascading down the screen. _Damn,_ he thought to himself, _I missed the best part._

The ringing continued as the man rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Reaching about, he found the source of the noise and picked up his cell phone. Taking a moment to read the caller ID, he flicked the ancient phone open.

"Look," he managed around a yawn, "I don't want you mad at me. I'll see the doctors more. I'll get better meds, whatever. This will go–" He stopped as he recognized the sound of a repressed weep. "What happened, babe?" he asked, concern seeping into his voice.

"The news," the same voice from before spoke up. It was clear she was fighting back tears. "I don't know how…" her voice trailed off and Remus picked the remote up off the floor, flicking furiously through the stations. Within moments the television was tuned onto the news, and Remus sat up watching intently.

The anchor spoke in a calming voice, a drastic contrast to the visuals appearing within a small inset in the corner. Through the view of a street camera, a shoot-out played forth. With a blur of sirens, the police arrived on scene. Armed in state of the art battle tech, the police seemed more machine than man.

The faint flickering of light was visible within their visors as their HUDs took in their surroundings. They drew sleek handheld guns, and opened fire against the thugs. Beams of light emitted as rounds meet their marks while the news anchor spoke on.

"The shoot-out ended on a sad note. In total, twelve citizens lost their lives – three of which were innocent bystanders."

"What is this?" Remus began. The scene unfolding before his eyes was a common occurrence among the slums and edges of the Isle.

His question was met with a whimper on the other end. But he didn't need her to fill him in. Instead, he was rendered speechless as the images of the deceased appeared on the screen.

"I'm so sorry, Remus," the voice struggled to speak. "I … I can't believe you were right. I just can't believe it."

* * *

**A.N. :  
**I'm quite liking where this is heading, and that people are catching my subliminal nudges. I found this chapter a tad slow for my liking, but what can you do.  
Reviews are appreciated :) Glad you are liking the story so far :)


	4. Mission of the Damned

**An.N.: _Before we start, I would like to apologize for the absence of an update last week. I noticed that a couple people even went to check. I'm sorry to disappoint any of you. Let's hope this update helps make up for it, and has been worth your wait._**

**_Last week was my exam week, and so explains why I didn't update. I did not want to half-ass or rush this._**

* * *

It had been a couple of days since my arrival and it was already getting to me. These measly mortals acted all high and mighty. What was it that I saw in them all those years ago? I shook my head as I flew through the air; the cool night breeze ruffled through my spiked back hair. These humans claimed to be the superior race. They boasted about their longevity and domination among their world, sitting atop monuments and pedestals soaked with their own kind's blood. They were hypocrites.

Everywhere I looked - not exactly knowing what I was looking for - the weak and poor were taken advantage of; the thugs and murderers hid in the shadows waiting for a chance to strike. This was not the world I knew of, nor the world I had imagined. It was a hell hole and it needed to be purged.

Violence constantly rocks the nations. Every day crime rings surge and grow, their presence a reminder of the failure within Kira's life. It sickened me how superior these mortals felt. I had to stop myself from showing these pitiful filth the true rulers of their world. How the shinigami could dictate who lived and died; they were like the insects and vermin they tread upon to a God of Death. But I couldn't – it was tearing me apart that I couldn't. Could I risk the Shinigami King's wrath? Even after the fate fallen upon The Punished? Did I want to risk taking his place just to show these mortals the presence of God?

These humans deserved to die. To see what power we control amidst their world; they need to understand how inferior they really are. Within the last few days, how many of their kind were killed by their brethren? How much human blood was shed to quench their thirst? And yet they claim to be superior, that it was their entitlement to rule. _HA_. In all my years as a shinigami, I don't even need the use of my second hand to count how many shinigami have been slain. Even still, they weren't truly lost. In fact, it's what brought me to Earth in the first place.

* * *

_The Shinigami King sat in his throne amongst the shadows. Darkness shrouded the Dark Lord's features and sprawled outwards from the void, slowly consuming the Shinigami Realm. Stone columns crumbled away from the vaulting roof, and amid the rubble two forms stood. Neither of them dared venture closer to the King. Stories had been passed here and there with a variety of rumours. Many of which claimed the King was capable of killing a shinigami as they could mortals. Again, others claimed a glimpse of his true form would consume the unfortunate soul from the inside out. _

_A booming voice echoed and hissed around the dank chamber, sending shivers up at least one of the shinigami's spines. "We know what happened upon earth was unacceptable. That's why you both are still here." The voice spoke with pure power, the vibrations pulsing through the ceiling far overhead. "Now, while one of you shall rot for this treachery, the other shall fix this mess."_

"_I guess I'll be the one punished then. Since it was me who started all this," the taller of the two shinigami spoke._

"_I wouldn't have it any other way Ryuk." the King spoke in a softer voice than the booming throb. "There was never any other consideration for who is at fault."_

"_Then why is he here?" Ryuk pointed his thumb at the skeletal shinigami standing several paces beside him._

"_Well, someone has to fix this mess. And while you rot, who better to prove themselves better than you than the lowest rank, eh?"_

"_Oh, come on – I can fix it. I've been sent to do so before. Do you really trust this bore over me?"_

"_Ryuk," the King spoke down upon him, the sound of his voice causing the shinigami to tense, "if that was seriously why you travelled to earth, then you failed miserably. 13 was such a nicer number than 14, but any further and I fear the extinction of your race. That is why now, Ryuk, you need to be made an example of, before we lose any more."_

_A silence had slid into the room, the same kind of silence that seemed to bind the other shinigami before the King. An aura of intimidation and fear expanded out from the darkness surrounding the king. Neither shinigami spoke up, whether it was out of fear, respect, or otherwise._

"_No, Ryuk," the King spoke, the shinigami called turning in acknowledgement of his name, "I don't trust him over you. I don't believe either of you will manage this." The King let out a small chortle of laughter, sending shivers up the spines of the Gods of Death. "If he fails, then you both will change fates. But if you fail after him…" the King allowed a pause to build suspense, possibly a tad too long of a pause before continuing,_

"_Well, let's just say that there are other ways to kill a shinigami – none of which are pleasant."_

_The corner of Ryuk's mouth twitched before he spoke up. "And what would that first fate be?" Curiosity couldn't help but seep into the question. After all, they were within the shinigami realm. It couldn't get much more interesting than this. _

_The darkness pulsed with a sickly glow as the Lord of the Dead spoke up, "I am so glad you asked, Ryuk. Why don't I show you, hmm?" His voice echoed around the chamber before a loud snap broke the resounding voice. _

_With a heavy groan and a suppressed scream, Ryuk fell upon his knees. A wave of pain and agony washed over the Death God, before a single beat resounded from within his chest. A sharp exhale broke from his twisted mouth before his hands formed balls atop his chest. The wave of pain washed over him again, as a second beat sounded. The pain itself was decreasing with each passing surge as the shinigami lay curled upon the floor. _

_Pushing through the pulses, Ryuk slowly pushed himself up. The waves passing through him could be seen upon his face. "What have you done?" His words were almost a scream, as the pain coursed through him once again._

_The King waited for several moments, allowing several groans to pass from the downed shinigami, each lessened than the first. All the while, the other shinigami stared on, a blank expression upon his sickly smile. _

_"Isn't it obvious Ryuk?" a demonic laughter escaped the Lord of Death, "Your mortality has been restored."_

_Ryuk's eyes widened further than normal. He tried to speak, but could only cough up blood before falling down upon all fours once more._

_"How long has it been now, since your heart had to pump that goo through you?" The King was clearly enjoying his show as the dark black ooze dripped from Ryuk's open maw. "It will take some time before the transition is complete. After all, all you had to do to become a shinigami was die. To change back? Well. All I will tell you is that the pain is over a hundred times worse."_

_A pair of shinigami emerged from the shadow, nodding their acknowledgements to the King. In response, the King addressed the pair. "Just on time. You know where to take this one. His existence shouldn't be straining either side of the veil."_

_The pair nodded, and grabbed each of Ryuk's arms before dragging him out of the chamber. _

_"Now," the King spoke to the sole occupant in the room besides himself, "What shall I do with you, eh?"_

_The shinigami took a step backwards absentmindedly as his nervousness took hold._

_"Don't worry – it wasn't your fault that Ryuk dropped his book and got a shinigami killed. After all, mortals are disposable. It isn't often that any achieve such an honour." He paused for but a moment before continuing, "Now, if you don't succeed, you switch fates with Ryuk; you will have no salvation from the mortal fate. There will be no second chances for you. This is your time to show me why you are what you are. Otherwise, you are better to me dead."_

_If he could have, he would have gulped. But as it was, he couldn't. It took a moment for the shinigami to respond to the King. A slow nod of his head proved enough acknowledgement for the King of Death, and he continued on._

_"Now then, I am sick of not having anything to call you by, other than pathetic, sickening, and ugly. What do you want your name to be for all of eternity? What about the name the Mortals assigned you? It's fitting."_

_The shinigami shook his head, and spoke to the awe inspiring being, "I never liked that name."_

_"Well, it would not be fitting to call you by your human name. It's quite inappropriate for the current situation." The shinigami nodded in agreement. "Is there any other name you want to be known as?"_

_The shinigami took a moment, scratching his chin with a boney hand. It would have to be a simple name; a name that was easily identifiable, intimidating and powerful. If he had to have a name for all eternity, it would need to be something that inspired and urged worship.  
"Until you find a name for yourself, Kira is all we shall be calling you. Besides, it is a name that did all that." The King spoke as if he could read the young shinigami's mind._

_The flutter of paper spilled from the darkness as a pair of notebooks were thrust forth. "You'll need these if you are ever going to complete your task."_

_"And what is this task?" the shinigami asked, slowly picking up the notebooks. _

_"You are to head to Earth, and reclaim the lost shinigami." The voice was starting to sound bored. "You know the one."_

_The shinigami stood still for a moment, wondering if he'd get any more instruction. Fearing he'd receive none, he spoke up, "And how exactly will I 'reclaim' them?"_

_There was a sign as the King debated his answer. It would be no fun if he told. Every shinigami combated boredom, even their King. "You shall know when you find them – if you find them. Now, be gone before you tire my patience. I have had enough of you and that other forsaken being."_

* * *

_The monsters were everywhere. Wherever Remus looked, they stood. Their glistening eyes staring out from the dark world around him. The silent figures standing still around him, visions of death and decay within their very souls. The earth began to tremble underneath his feet. The bleak, soot covered earth slowly splitting and tearing apart within the void. The earth shattered between his feet and he too spiraled into the darkness._

_The darkness quickly overcame his consciousness as he tumbled and spun within the inky blackness. Jagged rock and brittle bone shattered and scrapped across his skin. Droplets of crimson blood hung in the air around him as he propelled further downwards. Glowing eyes rose from the depths to meet with the tumbling sac of meat. Red rays radiated outwards from the pupils, casting everything within the vortex with an eerie glow._

_Talons tore into his flesh as the creatures gripped ahold of him. As they slowly pulled him deeper into the dark abyss, blood slowly seeped from their grasp on his flesh. Yet Remus did not emit a single scream into the darkness._

_Claws and talons raked down his blood-soaked body as his limbs were slowly pulled apart. _

Sweat coated the man's body as he awoke from his slumber. His body was cold and his breath heavy. It took him a long moment to realize it wasn't just the blanket wrapped around his body.

"Good morning there," a sleepy, yet sweet voice whispered into his ear. "I hope you weren't having another of those nightmares, baby."

He let out a yawn that sounded almost like a 'No' before closing his eyes. Instead of going back to that God awful place, he laid absorbing the feel of his girlfriend's hand across his flesh. Her fingers moving in slow circles atop his shoulder, as she herself laid wrapped behind him, spooning against his back.

Drawing himself away from the blissful haze of sleep for a moment, he tried to think when she exactly got here. He didn't recall falling asleep with her at his side. "Hey, Gwen," he began to ask in a sleepy voice, "how-" But he was cut off before he could finish. She clearly knew what he was going to ask.

"Spare key, remember?" She patted his shoulder lightly before snuggling in more. "You sure you are alright? Ever since- well, you know…" she paused to get her point across. She still didn't accept it, any of it. It was out of her comfort zone.

"Yes, yes," he replied automatically, defensively, hoping she wouldn't push further. With some resistance from his girlfriend, Remus slowly sat up and swung his legs off the side of the bed, gazing upon the half broken shutters.

"Aw, come on, Remus. It has been a week. The only food you've had is when I bring it over, you haven't gone outside, and the landlord's been patient. But if you don't do something, they'll have to kick you out." By now, she was propped up by her elbows, staring at his back. Her dark nightgown hung off one shoulder, and the blankets pulled up to her chest. Strands of black hair cascaded across the side of her face as straight as it could for bedhead. Strands of neon yellow streaked through her hair, giving her the appearance of a seductive hornet. Her body and colour choice complimented Remus almost to a tee.

"You know you're always welcome with us, right?"

Remus slowly nodded before letting out a sigh. He rubbed his shoulder as he visualized how it felt being torn from its socket within his dreams.

"You want breakfast?" he asked, stretching his arm out.

"Oh Remus, I'll just get something when we go out later. It's no problem, honest." The bed squeaked as she shuffled over and hugged him from behind.

Her warm breath blew past him as she slowly brought her lips to his ear and whispered seductively. "I know what'll get your mind off it." Her head dropped slightly, and she pressed her moist lips to his neck, while her fingers slowly trailed down his chest. As she tried to pull him back onto the bed, his body locked and prevented her from doing so.

"Not right now," he shook his head, and unhooked her arms from around him. He stood up slowly, as she sat downcast upon the bed.

"And why not, Rem?" she asked, slowly pushing the blankets off of herself and sprawling across the bed on her stomach towards him. Her dark nightgown continued until midway down her thighs, stopping just before the knees. She bent a smooth bare leg upwards and suckled her pinky, "You know you want to."

"I just want to be left alone, Gwendydd." He hardly ever spoke her full name, and she remained hushed for several minutes.

"Fine, I'll go." She pushed herself up and rolled off the bed, strutting towards a knapsack against the far wall. She bent down to pick up the bag, causing her gown to ride up to her backside. Unfortunately, her boyfriend was lost in thought – putting his nightmares at bay – to notice. She let out a sigh as she tossed the bag upon the bed and sashayed over to it.

Remus blinked several times at the sunlight shining in streaks through the narrow slits covering the window pane and into the room. He debated grabbing his medication, and hoping it would suppress the daydreams and nightmares, but then again it didn't do any good when he did. It was only part of the reason why he hadn't taken the small pills in the last while. He shook his head absentmindedly as his girlfriend shimmied into a pair of warm leggings.

By the time he finally turned around, Gwen was sliding a bright yellow tank top over her head. He solemnly eyed her up and down as she faced away from him, the twitch of a smile betraying his actual mood. She wiggled about, trying to get the top on properly, the action swaying her body from side to side.

His eyes made their way down the curves of her lightly tanned body. Starting up at her shoulder, where a Pentacle was tattooed in a curling style atop her shoulder blade, then down towards the black bra strap wrapping round her torso, confining her chest within what he presumed was her black and silver leopard print bra. Further down his gaze fell, towards the black jeans conforming to her form. They fit snug and allowed a rather simple visual of the curves of her petite buttocks.

Finally the top came down, and she straightened it out. Peering over her shoulder, she caught Remus still staring down at her ass. With a cheeky smile, she spoke softly, "Don't be all eyeing me like that now," she stuck her butt out towards him while continuing, "you already lost your chance of getting any of this." She stuck her tongue out at him and stood back straight.

He shook his head and walked over to the door. With a creak it opened.

"Where are you going?" Gwen asked as he stepped into the hall.

"Just waiting downstairs." The answer shot up the stairs.

"But you haven't even gotten ready yet. Are you not going out? Or are we staying here?" her voice softened as she completed her series of questions and made her way down the stairs.

Remus sighed from his spot upon the couch. The leather cool against his bare back. He sat in his boxers and waited a moment before replying, "I told you, I want to be left alone. I have, erm, some stuff to do."

The footsteps stopped midway down the stairs as Gwen let out a huff. "Fine then. I'll leave you to your peace then. I might stop by later, or not. It's up to you."

She continued down the flight of stairs and into the hall. She realized Remus was likely not to say goodbye and saw herself out. She buckled her boots and stood up a couple inches taller, before throwing on one of Remus's jackets and walking out the door.

Remus waited several minutes after the door slammed shut, his fingers gently massaging his temples as he slowly bundled his thoughts together. Is this what he wanted to do? Was he sure about it. _Of course I am._ He thought in response to his self-questioning. He exhaled deeply and nodded his head to himself. _Yeah, definitely going to do this._

Pushing himself off the cool couch, he made his way back upstairs and slowly dressed. After all, he was in no rush. Things would get done when they got done.

Standing in his room, fully clothed, he walked over to his dresser and slowly opened the faded bottom drawer. Shuffling through its contents, Remus carefully moved each item out of the drawer and onto the floor. Once the drawer was empty, he slowly pulled the bottom of the drawer up and out, revealing the false bottom. He sat staring inside at the hidden contents. It was all he had left of his grandfather and father. Slowly, he reached in and placed his hand around a small disk of metal.

"Don't worry about me, dad," he muttered near silently to himself, "I'll find them. And then I'll kill them." A tear rolled slowly down his cheek as he thought about all the Death surrounding him. He was almost alone. There were only a few people left in his life that cared. But his grief overshadowed his thoughts, and he knew that this was what he needed to do.

Slowly, he let go of his father's badge and removed his father's gun. He slid the clip out and checked it. Seeing it was fully loaded, he put it back together and tucked it in his waistband behind his back. Rifling through the drawer, he could not find any spare clips for the older handgun. Frustrated, the noise of clinking metal reminded him that it wasn't the only gun. Reaching in again, he pulled out his grandfather's old revolver and a handful of loose bullets.

This time when he checked the gun, it was almost empty. A single bullet was lodged in a chamber. Slowly, he loaded the other 5 chambers and spun the barrel. Pocketing his grandpa's gun, and a half dozen more bullets, he stood. _It's now or never, Remus. No turning back._

* * *

**_Reviews are always appreciated :)_**

**_I hope this was worth the wait for you all. I can feel it picking up from here. I have been starting to wade a tad out, seeing what I excel towards. So if there is anything you'd care for more, less. Give me your opinion and I shall weigh my ideas :) I already have the basis for the next few sections. But nothing has been set into stone yet. _**

**_As I mentioned before, I just finished my Exams, so I won't be back to school till the New Year. Which ultimately means I have more time to write._**

**_Next Tuesday is also Christmas, so if i happen not to update by then I wish each and every one of you Yuletide's greetings and a merry merry christmas.  
And to those of you who don't celebrate christmas, A very cheering Bahumbug to you ;3_**


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